The Innocence of a Touch
by Anansay
Summary: An innocent touch leads two people down an unknown path of discovery.


TITLE: The Innocence of a Touch  
AUTHOR: Anansay  
DATE: July 21, 2003  
SUMMARY: An innocent touch leads two people down an unknown path of discovery.  
RATING: PG-13  
DISCLAIMER: These characters are owned by those who own CSI.   
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just a little something that sprung from an imagination that doesn't ever settle down. I've been told I think too much. If only they knew what I think about! LOL! This is a standalone story. 

~*~

The Innocence of a Touch

by Anansay

July 22, 2003

She felt his hands on her shoulders and she tried to move out of his way. But his hands stayed on her shoulders and began pushing her forward. Confused, her feet moved to where his hands guided her, and she found them in the locker room, a private room. To the far corner, away from the doorway, he continued pushing her before turning her around to face him.   
She looked up at him, and his eyes bored into hers like shafts of dark passion. It caught her off guard, this sudden, unmitigated desire.   
Then his hands were her face, holding it there while he intensified his gaze. She was powerless to look away, both for his hands and his eyes. They stole from her what control she had left after his hands had grabbed her shoulders. She wondered what he would do, would he kiss her, like she was hoping? But he wasn't moving, just staring down at her. And then she saw the silent questioning battle in his mind as he struggled with his desires versus his obligations. He was stuck.   
So she leaned up into him and pressed her lips to his, letting her tongue run along his lips until they opened with a moan and their tongues were meshing together, in a frantic bid to capture as much in this tiny moment as could be crammed in. His hands dropped from her face to land on her back and he pulled her to him fiercely, like a drowning man pulls the ring to him before he goes down one last time. His arms were shaking as he held her and she wrapped her arms around his torso, needing to feel his body in her arms. His mouth crushed hers in a plea to just let go and accept him.   
It had been so long since she'd felt another body in such intimate contact with her own that she found herself milking it for all it was worth, for as long as it would last. His lips on hers were soft and yielding, yet there was a firm and demanding quality that helped to push her slightly over the edge and into the realm of mindless lust. Her body took over as her hips began thrusting into his. His arousal became clear, pressing into her hot center. She moaned into his mouth and found herself backed up against the far wall, his entire length held against her. His heat was suffocating and she melted against him. Thought left her mind to be replaced by need and desire. Her leg glided up his thigh pulling him to her, his arousal touching her heated center more forcefully than she'd intended. He bucked into her, groaning, his hands grabbing her ass and pulling her into him.   
His lips left her bruised and swollen ones to suckle madly at the tender skin of her neck. She craned her head back allowing him ample room to discover that part of her body. Her hands drifted down to his pants to untuck his shirt, her hands roaming beneath it to the heated skin of his back. He arched into her, grunting. She dragged her nails down his back, enjoying the rippling sensations passing through his muscles as he tried desperately not to loose concentration. The heat in her center took over and she knew she needed him, wanted him inside her. Didn't matter where they were Her hands dragged around to his stomach - and she giggled when his muscles spasmed at her gentle tough - and attacked the button and zipper.   
She'd just gotten the button undone when his hands landed on hers, stopping their motion.   
She brought her head down; his head was still nestled in her neck, but he'd stopped his kissing. Everything had stopped, but he hadn't moved. And then his head came up and she caught his eyes. There was fear and remorse in them. He looked away from her as he stepped back and straightened himself. She stared at him a moment before pushing herself away from the wall. She saw him from her peripheral vision as he struggled to regain some sort of outward sense of composure, but his hands mussing around with his clothes gave away his nervousness. It was a few minutes before he was able to look her in the eye. She hadn't said a word, just stood there, waiting for him to do something. The look in his eyes was something she would never forget. She allowed her own eyes to show what she was feeling; no words could adequately convey her hurt. So she let him see it, and feel it, through her eyes.   
"I'm sorry," he said, under his breath.   
"What?"  
"I'm sorry for what just happened All I wanted to do was get by, but"  
She sighed, looked down and went to pass him to the door. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. "Please" he started to say, but she pulled her arm from his, gave him a cold stare and left the room, leaving the door to close softly behind her.   
She leaned against the wall by the door, allowing her eyes to close as she fought to calm her racing heart. Her mind struggled to fathom and logicize what had just happened. But confusion clouded it and prevented any logical thought from forming. All she knew was that something irreversible had just happened, and for no apparent reason, as though all sanity had departed him and she'd caught the contagion, falling prey to his presence once again. Only this time, it had been a lot more than just a mere physical reaction. This time, it had been mutual and exploratory - oh yeah! Exploratory! Her lips still burned from his assault and her neck still bore the wetness from his tongue. She wiped at herself and then wiped her hand on her pants. But the feeling - and the memory - were still there. To haunt her for a long time.   
She stood up straight and continued down the hall, toward the lab. Regardless of what kind of mental illness had suddenly taken hold of Grissom, work still needed to get done.   
  
  
They met again in the breakroom but everyone else was there. He didn't meet her eye, merely looked away, over her shoulder, past her. He spoke in clipped, low, monotone voice while he handed out assignment sheets. And then he was gone. Like a ghost, his form disappearing down the hall. She watched him leave, her eyes following him like he was a trail. A trail to something that she didn't know if she wanted to follow. Her lips still tingled, her body still swam with the butterflies of a few moments ago. They wouldn't settle. 

She stood in his doorway. She watched him, his head down, glasses perched on the tip of his nose, lips pursed, tongue poking through. His stilled hand moved swiftly, penning his name quickly and efficiently before the paper was whisked to another pile. The completed pile. The finished pile. The one that he could forget, it was done.   
Had he signed off on her? Pushed her to the pile of the ones he could forget?  
Her shadow fell upon him and he looked up, above his glasses, his pale blue eyes catching hers. She gasped silently, her mouth opening in a silent response to her own body's response.   
He stared at her. And she wondered at what she saw in those eyes. Patience for a worker? Apology for his actions, or lack of?   
She sighed, her body slumping, caving in on itself, her resolve slipping fast behind her through his door, leaving only her.  
And him.  
"Did you need something?" he asked, his voice betraying only slightly his ambivalence at having her here, so near him. He was good at hiding his feelings. But not that good.  
Her eyes traveled over his face and settled on his lips. Those lips that had pressed against hers.   
She moved forward and around his desk to stand in front of his turned chair. He stood up, meeting her eye to eye. He was waiting. Waiting for her to do something. But this was his office and she hadn't closed his door.   
Her eyes wandered over his face again, searching for that one elusive hint of something other than what he was trying to hard to present to her. That one element of depth of feeling.   
The pulse beat frantically in his neck and he licked his lips, his eyes never leaving hers.   
Neither of them moved.   
She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed down. He resisted only for a moment before landing in his chair, his knees betraying him. The force of his descent brought her down with him. Their faces were mere inches from each other. She could feel his breath on her face; it was jittery.   
He was staring up at her, waiting again. He'd made the first move in the locker room, even if it hadn't been his intent. Now he sat and waited.   
Something pushed her from behind. A force that moved her toward him, and made their lips touched. The gentle touch sent sparks shooting through her body and she gasped. Leaning over him, her arms beginning to tremble at the exertion, she kept her lips just brushing his, the softness tickling. She fought against the urges swirling in her body.   
He kept his body still, his lips still, but she could feel them trembling. He didn't pull away, but he didn't come forward either. And she knew then that the ball was completely in her court. Turning her head, she pressed in further, meshing her lips with his. He still didn't move, only let her move on him. When her tongue prodded against his closed lips, she felt them open slowly and then his head to turn. He finally gave in and joined her, his mouth against hers, his hands resting on her hips.   
Sara moaned into his mouth when she felt his hands on her hips, a hand moved to cup his face, to feel his skin. It was warm, like a fever. Her fingers combed through his hair, the curls trying to capture her hand before it came back to down to rest agains this face. Her thumb rubbed along the skin by their lips and she felt him moving against her, his fingers digging into her hips, his breathing jittery.   
But her position was wreaking havoc on her lower back. With a sigh she pulled away, leaning back, her hand still on his face, still caressing. Her thumb traced his swollen moist lips and his tongue darted against her thumb. Grissom's eyes slowly opened and Sara was shocked to see such purity of feeling. He was staring up at her, his body was trembling and his breathing erratic. It was such a shock but for reason not very surprising. If the man's passion for bugs was any indication, his passion was an all-encompassing characteristic that she longed to explore further. But her back demanded attention.   
They stared at each other a moment longer and then Sara stood up and took a step back before stretching her body. Grissom stood up and came to her, standing in front of her.   
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.  
"For what?"  
"Earlier."  
Sara stared at him, at a loss for the words that would describe the tumultuous sensations in her. She merely nodded her head. It was the best she could do at the moment, lost in his eyes. His hand came out and brushed against her waist, a memento of their previous position. Staring into his eyes, Sara knew that a boundary had been crossed. They'd entered new territory.   
"Can I call you?" he asked.   
"Yes."  
Grissom smiled. "Okay." He stared at her a moment longer, not wanting to take his eyes off her. "Uh work" Coherent sentences eluded him but he tried to get his point across.   
Sara nodded. "Yes, work. Needs us."  
Grissom nodded in return. "We should go."  
"Mm-hmm" Never taking her eyes off him, Sara backed up a few steps. "Are you coming?"  
"I'll be there in a minute, Sara. Paperwork."  
She glanced at his desk and then back at him. "Okay." She smiled and then turned and walked out of his office.   
Grissom watched her leave and when he was sure she was out of sight and not coming back, he turned and fell into his chair, letting his breath out in a long, loud sigh. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his face with his hands as though to rid himself of the encounter. Not ridding as in forever, just changing façade from Grissom-the-man to Grissom-the-supervisor. It wasn't easy though, the two were getting closer and closer together, especially where Sara was concerned.   
Gathering his notes, he stood again, noting the lessened shakiness in his legs and left his office. 

~*~

Copyright © 2003Anansay 


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